House Rules
by Agent66
Summary: Based on inuficcrzy's "Splinter's Rules for the Lair", here's some explaination on some of those 'rules'. NOW WITH BONUS CHAPTERS!
1. There's a Rhyme & Reason

A/N: Yes, I know I should be working on sequels, however, this could not be left alone. This fic came about due to inuficcrzy's "Splinter's Rules for the Lair", which if you haven't read, dear God, you should. I pretty much tried to describe the rules I used and their corresponding numbers, so if you HAVE read it, you can see which I've used. However, I've also mentioned which rules are used either in the chapter or at the beginning of the chapter.

These are drabble like one-shots, so they aren't very long. They hope to explain how some of these 'rules' came about.

DISCLAIMER: TMNT and all related characters are now property of Nickelodeon (surprising), with original rights going to Eastman and Laird, as well as Mirage Studios. The fic, "Splinter's Rules for the Lair" is property of author inuficcrzy and all related items from this fic are used with permission.

* * *

**House Rules**

_Rhyme & Reason_

* * *

Master Hamato Splinter was a very knowledgable individual, despite being a mutated rat. He had lived a most interesting life, most of it of course centering on his transformation from regular rat to mutated sensei. Being born and partially 'raised' in Japan, Splinter had come to the United States as part of a new life, with his master Hamato Yoshi, after the betrayal of Yoshi's friend and the murder of his beloved. However, tragedy followed them even to this new country, leading to the death of his master and to the aged master's new life.

A little over twenty years ago, Master Splinter had seen an accident take place in his new adopted home of Manhattan, New York; a blind man had walked across the street and was nearly hit by a large truck. This accident had caused a young man to dart out and safe the blind man's life, though he would ultimately bump into a young boy who held a glass jar with four baby turtles held inside. Something in Splinter told him to rescue these small beings as they tumbled down into the sewer. His only thought was to see if they were alright or nurse them to health if they had been injured.

At the time, he did not think he would ever see these four again.

In the twenty years that he had not only watched, but loved and cared for these four, the ninja master had discovered that parenthood was a journey that most dared not to tread; however, for every misstep or heartache, there were times of joy and times of…perplexing hilarity. It was the latter times that had him sitting akimbo on his bedroom floor, at his desk with a pen and piece of paper. One would think, that with the training he had given his sons and at their age, he would not need to be doing what he was. But here he indeed was, sitting at his small desk, writing out a list.

A list of rules for the lair.

The amazing and…odd thing about this was the fact that these weren't ordinary list items. No where on his list did he state that chores needed to be done on time or that one can not and should not change said chore with another unless permission had been given. No, no; this list was unlike anything he had ever written before or since.

As a teacher and father, Splinter did his best to not only guide and nurture his sons and students, but he also allowed them to make their own decisions. Usually, this was met with the standard decisions that come to every teenager and young adult, but as this current list demonstrated, some decisions certainly were _not_ standard. In the first hour he had sat down, Splinter had already listed one hundred things his sons (or their friends) could not do while in or around the lair.

Picking up his list, he read over some of the items he had listed. He shook his head in disbelief. He had always known that he and his sons were…different, unique. Their mutation alone was something of a scientific discovery, but that alone wasn't what he thought of his family. Each of his sons had unique abilities that, if they had been human, would have them in special schools or learning environments. That was certainly true for his third son, Donatello, who had shown his aptitude at all things learning. Looking at the list again, the aged rat realized that about a fourth of the items were attributed to his intelligent son.

A little over half pointed to the youngest, Michelangelo. While his child-like manner could brighten a room, there were some things that went on that turtle's brain that escaped even Splinter. Looking at number twenty-five seemed to signify that…


	2. I Gots a Sexy Dance

**House Rules**

_Sexy Dance_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #25 - Your "Sexy Dance" is not appropriate while on duty, Michelangelo. Even if you've got a theme tune _

* * *

His sons stood before him within the dojo, while he paced in front of them. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened on their patrol watch, though he knew he would have to ask. For some reason, the ninja master was _afraid_ to ask. "Would anyone like to explain what has happened?"

The four were quiet, though he noticed the three oldest turned annoying gazes at their youngest brother. "It's Mikey's fault," his second son grumbled.

"And why, _Leonardo_," Splinter began, looking at his eldest son. "Would your brother be at fault? What has happened?"

Leonardo, his eldest son, seemed to take a breath before explaining. "We were out on patrol, Master Splinter," he began. "And we were…keeping watch and…Mikey broke out with his…dance."

"Dance?"

"Yeah," Raphael huffed. "Mikey's got some stupid dance routine."

"It's not stupid!" Michelangelo protested. "It's my sexy dance and I've got a sexy dance theme song! I've been working on it all week. You wanna see it, Sensei?"

"Well…"

Splinter wasn't able to finish, as his youngest son began his dance routine, which consisted of the youngest turtle making his own musical beats. The aged rat usually left all the new music and technology of the age to his sons, knowing that they were of a generation that was separated from his own. However, looking at Michelangelo, he had to wonder what it was this generation found so appealing in…whatever it was his son appeared to think was dancing.

Currently, Michelangelo was turned around and shaking his tail at his father before jumping back and pretending to gallop in one place with a hand waving in the air. His brothers, who stood behind the dancing sensation, seemed to be gripped in mixed stages of embarrassment. Leonardo had been hissing his brother's name for the duration of this…scene, while Donatello had muttered, "oh my God," while covering his eyes with one of his hands. Raphael had rolled his eyes and shook his head, but neither of them had sought to stop their younger brother's antics.

"Michelangelo!" Splinter commanded, stopping the dancing turtle in his tracks.

"Yeah, Sensei?"

Splinter couldn't even begin to form a sentence that could effectively state what he was feeling at the moment. All he did was shake his head and say, "Stop. Just…stop."

* * *

Splinter shook his head at the incident. He certainly couldn't say that his youngest son wasn't creative in his endeavors. With that thought, Splinter's eyes strayed to the fourth number on the list, in which his son had gone screaming throughout the lair and the sewers shouting, "AGH! The zombies are coming! The zombies are coming!" That of course had been a terrifying and rude awakening, especially at three o'clock in the morning.

He had punished the boy, though he wondered if making Michelangelo do flips was the best way, as that seemed to make him more agile than anything else. So he paired that with making the turtle clean the dojo from top to bottom. Unfortunately, while Splinter's punishments were taken as severe, they were nothing compared to what his brothers had done to him. In that thought, he couldn't help the way his eyes went down to item number sixty-six in regards to brothers and duct tape.

Frowning, he wondered if he should move that item up on the list. Looking back on the top portion, his eyes narrowed as he read items twenty-four, thirty-one, forty-five, and fifty-seven. Oh yes; he remembered why the duct tape rule was so low…


	3. Leo Has A Weakness

Japanese Translation here:_ Juuban_ means enough, as in the emotionally sense of "I have had enough!".

* * *

**House Rules**

_Leo Has a Weakness_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #24. Leonardo's ultimate weakness is not porn, and he will not fall dead if you keep on sending him adult graphic novels. We don't know how you got the Purple Dragons to believe that, but we would advise you disillusion them rapidly._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #45. "Raphael did it first" is not an adequate excuse for anything._

* * *

Master Splinter, being a male and an adult one at that, knew all too well that, while he was humanoid in appearance and thought, there were some things that were inherently primal due to their species. Though he and his sons were different species, they still felt the pull of mating. In the wild, this wouldn't have been much of a problem. However, with their new status as mutants, finding someone suitable for the task was difficult and Splinter understood that.

He personally did not prescribe to the human male ritual of gawking at young ladies in all of their glory. He found such material tasteless and dishonorable and while he had taught each of his sons that women of all sorts were to be treated with respect and honor, Splinter found that in their earlier adolescence he turned a blind eye to such…possessions. He still found them tasteless, but had they been human this sort of behavior could easily be dealt with. As his sons were not human and for the most part possibly the only ones of their kind, measures needed to be taken in order for them to be released from their…tensions.

His sons may have thought he wasn't aware of any of their activities or perhaps, wanted to honor his wish by not having such things laying about in his eyesight. However, they seem to have forgotten that his hearing was much more in tuned to that of theirs or the average human. Many a time, he could hear the sounds of their…activity within their rooms, but he would honor them by not saying anything in order to avoid embarrassment.

Unfortunately, his sons didn't feel the same sort of tact when it came to each other.

Splinter of course knew that boys acted differently from girls in terms of…language and the first few times, he could chalk it up to brotherly camaraderie. That was all fine and well in their teens, but he was starting to wonder as they reached their status as young adults. Though one may think that the ultimate individual responsible would have been Raphael – and truthfully, he was the one who caused the most strife – or Michelangelo – who always enjoyed a good prank - Splinter none the less was always surprised when Donatello's name was brought up as another member of the hi-jinks.

The craziness had been going on for nearly two weeks – the first few days had been quiet until Splinter heard Leonardo's angry yell that "they cut it out right this minute or so help me…!" The aged master of course had no idea what was going on, but decided that his sons were old enough to handle these matters of brotherly teasing on their own. By the end of the second week, enough was enough.

Once again, his sons stood before him within the dojo, each one with a different expression on their faces. Raphael was failing at trying to not laugh, along with his younger brothers; Leonardo however looked fit to be tied. He didn't think he'd ever seen his eldest son so angry before. "Obviously something has happened," the ninja master began. "Who would like…"

"Master Splinter," the eldest interrupted. "They have been tormenting me for nearly a month!"

"Tormenting how?"

"They've…they've…" Suddenly, the turtle's face went through a mirage of colors and his father almost wished he hadn't been born with green skin, as it just made the colors diluted instead of bright as he suspected the emotions that those colors signified. "They've been leaving…unwanted materials in my room," the eldest snarled. "And then tonight…"

"Wait," Splinter began, looking at the other three. "What type of 'unwanted materials' have they been leaving?"

"The kind not worthy of mentioning within this room."

"Oh like you don't have your own copies," Donatello muttered, causing both Raphael and Michelangelo to snigger.

"You would know," Leonardo hissed. "You _supplied_ them to me!"

"_Juuban!_" Splinter said, looking at each turtle in turn. "I do not have to remind you how I feel about certain…materials that you may or may not be giving to your brothers, Donatello, do I?"

The turtle in purple gulped. "No, Sensei."

"I can only guess what type of…things have been left in your room, Leonardo," the teacher continued. "I usually can tolerate your brothers teasing, however if this seems to be of great emotionally or physical threat, then I do not want to hear any more of it. Now, what has happened tonight, my son?"

As though the previous conversation hadn't angered Leonardo enough, the explanation of the events of that night certainly did. Splinter listened, disapprovingly, as his oldest son told how they had run into a small infraction of Purple Dragon members. While he knew his sons were more than capable of defending themselves, apparently the means in which they did this night was most…inappropriate.

Apparently, in some earlier encounter, one of Leonardo's brothers – he didn't know who, but he had a fairly good idea – had decided to mention that the owner of the twin swords could be easily defeated in any battle.

By throwing sexually graphic magazines and other things at him.

They apparently were his one weakness.

Why this group of Purple Dragon believed this or why they had actually gone out and bought said materials, Splinter didn't know. Nor did he want to know who was responsible for telling these gang members that their troubles could be solved by purchasing graphic novels of an intimate nature. Ultimately, he would dismiss his eldest son, while keeping the three youngest with him, to stress the downfalls of pranks and jokes that extend to the outside world.

At that moment of course, all he felt was a growing headache and the need to stop his son from telling him how this whole thing began in the first place; nor did the excuse that "Raphael did it first!" do anything to keep anyone out of trouble. The aged rate just sighed, saying, "Stop. Just…stop."

* * *

Looking back on it, Splinter could see the humor in that, though it did sadden him a bit that his eldest son was the usual focal point of any pranks thought up by his younger siblings. Of course, as soon as that thought entered, Splinter took another look at the list and easily pointed out 'incidents' that were _Leonardo's_ doing, namely numbers thirty-one, ninety, and ninety-two; there was of course the matter of number sixty-six again, which had initially been done at Leonardo's urging.

And April thought he was such a nice boy…


	4. I Own Your Soul & Touch of Death

A/N: Moving right along! I will hopefully have a Halloween inspired portion of this for you all tomorrow. Just a note regarding your soul - do NOT get tricked into selling your soul, especially if you have been drinking and certainly don't sell it to a friend. And if you DO sell your soul, get a binding contract written on actual paper. There are hassles when souls are exchanged through say, a cocktail napkin.

I can happily report though that your soul will not be burned if said contract is burned. Unless binding. I have no knowledge of those effects.

* * *

**House Rules**

_I Own Your Soul/Touch of Death_

_Splinter's Rules of the Lair #31. You do not own anyone's soul. Splinter does not own anyone's soul. Souls are not collectable items. Nor do they taste good with ketchup._

_Splinter's Rules of the Lair #92. Leonardo, there is no such thing as the 'Touch of Death'; stop threatening your brothers with it._

* * *

When they had last met with the Shredder, Splinter had hoped that the troubles that had plagued them would soon be over. He was of course unaware of the repercussions that would take hold of his oldest son. He had been deeply concerned with Leonardo's anger and his outbursts on the matter. Such a profound change in the turtle's personality did not go unnoticed by anyone, not even the subject of the matter.

It was only when he let his anger get the better of him that Splinter decided that he could not help his oldest son with his problems; but he knew someone who could. Thus, the aged ninja master sent his pupil off to his master's master, to hopefully not only learn where his anger came from, but how to overcome it. The happiness that Splinter felt at seeing his eldest returned to the boy he remembered was unlike anything he could really explain and he knew his three other sons felt relief at having their 'Fearless Leader' back amongst them.

With Leonardo's return, his brothers had been quite curious as to what the elder turtle had learned on his journey. It had been shortly afterwards that Splinter had sent him on a self-discovery mission alone, hoping that being away for a short time may put things in perspective, mostly on wanting to have Leonardo get interested in other hobbies that did not require any ninja training. This endeavor had backfired in a way – his eldest had spent much longer than he had initially given, the freedom of being on his own quite appealing to the young turtle.

And while Leonardo was gone, it seemed his brothers enjoyed the freedom of not having any restrictions. Splinter blamed himself; he had wanted to place Donatello in the leadership position to hopefully build his confidence outside of his lab and computers, while equally teaching Raphael how to take direction from another source. While he had thought his more temperamental son may resist, he had never shown any distain with his immediate younger brother, which was why the situation that his eldest returned to was such a shock not only to him, but his father as well.

In hindsight, Splinter knew he would need to better prepare his sons than he had. Shaking his head, the rat gave a tired sigh, thinking back to why he had made this list in the first place…

Leonardo had been very fortunate indeed with his travels outside of their home state and country, though certainly he and his brothers couldn't say they had never been outside of their own four walls. It was in the weeks that the eldest had returned that reminded Splinter that his son could be just as childish as his younger brothers. He hadn't heard anything until Michelangelo had gotten in trouble during practice and Splinter requested his presence afterwards.

"Please, Sensei, I'm so sorry!" the youngest whined, as his older brothers began to leave and chuckle. "Please don't take and eat my soul!"

If the air and life could have stopped at that moment, it certainly did. Splinter couldn't help but sputter, "What?" It didn't escape Splinter's hearing nor sight that the three oldest were trying to 'make a break for it' as he had once heard. "Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael," he replied, his eyes never straying from his terrified youngest son. "Is there a reason your brother thinks I will take his soul?"

"And eat it!"

"And eat it."

"With ketchup!"

"With…" Splinter shot Michelangelo a look, effectively shutting the younger turtle up. "Is there any reason for this?"

Instantly the turtles who had dubbed themselves the middle children looked to their older brother with something like fear in their eyes. Leonardo for their part shot them the same type of look Splinter himself had used. The two turtles, one purple and one red, turned to look at their father and said, "No."

"Please return and stand before me, my sons."

The three reluctantly returned, each standing before their father once again. "Now Michelangelo," the teacher began. "What has made you feel that I would take your soul?"

"Um…" the turtle in orange began, turning a frightened glance at Leonardo, who stood next to him. Taking a few steps away from his oldest brother, the turtle in orange said, "Leo and I were playing cards and I lost, but he didn't want any of the stuff I was gonna give him, so I asked what he wanted and Raph said he should just take all my games and stuff, but Donnie said that wouldn't work and he needed to take something much better and then Leo was like 'why I don't I take your soul?' and I was all like, 'but I need my soul!' and Donnie was like, 'I've owned your soul for like three years and you haven't noticed' and I was like 'what the fuck?' I mean…'what the hizay?'

"So like Donnie has this contract and like I signed it and he owns my soul and he said he sold it to Raph once when Raph owed him money and there were these ketchup stains and Raph was all like, 'yeah I had some of your soul with some ketchup and fries,' and Leo said that if I played around in practice, you'd eat my soul cause you own our souls cause you're our Dad and…"

Splinter held up his hands – one to stop Michelangelo's story and the other to massage his temple. "Michelangelo," the ninja master sighed. "In summary, who told you that I would take your soul?"

The youngest was a bit hesitant, but eventually he blurted, "Leo!" Seeing the look given to him by both his oldest brother and his father, the turtle in orange began again. "Don't punish him, Sensei!" he cried. "He's got the touch of death!"

"He what?"

"It's true," Donatello replied, stepping away from Leonardo, despite the fact that Raphael separated them. "That's how all the kitchen appliances get destroyed."

It took him nearly an afternoon to find out that Leonardo had been telling his brothers that the Ancient One had taught him the ancient art of death techniques and that by just touching someone, he could now render them lifeless. Apparently, after an incident with the toaster, the eldest had told his brainy younger brother that he had accidently used his 'touch of death' when making toast. Splinter himself had been quite surprised that not only Donatello, but Raphael had actually believed that.

As for Michelangelo's soul, well that was another case. It took the rest of the afternoon to convince the younger turtle that none of his brothers owned his soul and that whatever contract Donatello had devised would be destroyed. That of course sent the youngest in a panic, as he thought destroying the contract would destroy his soul. Splinter thankfully managed to calm the younger turtle, but told his older brothers that their tails, rather than their souls, would be his for the next two months.

Of course, when the three tried to explain, he just held up a hand and said, "Stop. Just…stop."

* * *

Often Splinter wondered what life would have been like if he had only one son or at most two. He knew that he would never trade the life and times that he had now; the joy that all four of his sons had given him over the years, but…it was things like the soul incident that made him wish he only had to deal with one child.

He knew his sons felt that way as well, that they had been only children, though even that he worried about. Case in point was his third son, Donatello. From an early age, it was clear that this son had many gifts and talents. If he had been human, he would have been what one would call a prodigy child and he knew his son would have attended the best and brightest of schools.

There were many a things the ninja master regretted and sadly, not being able to let his genius son's efforts be explored by the world was one. However, Donatello always made a sizable effort and contribution to their lives and homes. The downside of that of course was that sometimes his brainy son's mind went a little _too far_…


	5. 1001 Ways to Kill A Ninja

A/N: The bit about a young Donatello's report comes from a fic that is either entitled "Donatello's Assignment" or "Donatello's Report" and sadly I can't remember which, nor who the author was. If anyone knows the name of both, please let me know so that I can give credit to that person.

* * *

**House Rules**

_1001 Ways to Kill a Ninja_

_Splinter's Rules of the Lair #47. Donatello, while your '1001 Ways to Kill a Ninja With Just a Toothpick, a Piece of String and a Peanut' is undoubtedly imaginative, deeply informative and well-researched, we do not appreciate you distributing it to junior high students. We are also rather dubious about ways 745-87._

* * *

Splinter had always been proud of each and every one of his sons. From Leonardo's studious to Raphael's loyalty to Michelangelo's joy of life; he took comfort in seeing his sons achieve heights they could never have in the world in which they lived. The rat would be lying if he said he didn't have a special place in his heart for each of his sons, despite their thoughts his heart only held one or two. Donatello was one of those great joys.

He was indeed a proud father when it came to his third son. Splinter would never and could never try to understand how the mind of this son worked, but in seeing the outcome of the things he could do was simply amazing. Once when he was a child, Donatello had gone the extra mile in writing a report on the Japanese language, going so far as to write the entire thing in the kanji he had still been teaching them. Whatever the task was, his third son did not go about it half way.

Donatello never went anything half way.

Which was why Splinter should not have been surprised to learn, from April O'Neil-Jones of all people, that Donatello had decided to become an author. And not just an author, no; one who was teaching people of the world different things. Sadly, however, what Donatello was teaching people was not something that Splinter himself quite approved of.

He himself did not find out about the…article until he had come into the living room and saw his sons crowded around something. He heard various cries of approval until Raphael stated, "No way. I call shenanigans on that."

"What is wrong with you?" exclaimed Leonardo. He pointed to his younger brother before pointing to Michelangelo. "And you! What is wrong with the _both_ of you?"

Donatello was apparently not interested in his eldest brother's thoughts, but that of his immediate older brother. "What do you mean, you call shenanigans?" he asked. "You can't call shenanigans."

"I can so," Raphael said. "Hey, I'm with you on everything from number one until seven hundred forty-four, but seven hundred forty-five? There's no way a guy is gonna let you do that to him, especially not if it involves a toothpick and a peanut."

"If you named it Roger, he might," Michelangelo smirked.

"I will so tell Splinter about that goat in your room if you don't shut up." The red banded turtle then turned back to his purple wearing brother. "And this? Seven fifty-five? No way you can get a toothpick through someone's tongue."

"You can so!"

"Prove it."

"Alright."

"Stop," Splinter had said, causing all four to turn and look at him. "Whatever it is you are about to do, just…stop. And please be so kind as to hand whatever you are looking at over to me."

Splinter had then taken the manual and of course read it. On one hand, his son had certainly put in a lot of hard work into this…article. He had done a lot of research from the look of it, as well as using a bit of…imagery to back it up. He could see now Leonardo's objections – apparently Michelangelo had decided this piece of work needed visual confirmation and had gone and drawn illustrations. And while there were definite dangers in the first half of this manuscript, as Raphael had said, the last half, especially ways to kill a ninja 745 through 787 were highly speculative. He definitely didn't enjoy the illustration Michelangelo had done for number 745 and odd as it was, even Splinter winced and felt sorry for the illustrated man.

Out of all of his sons, Splinter really did count on Donatello being the one he could count on to serve as adult council in certain types of 'shenanigans' as Raphael had called them. But as he glanced again at his list, specifically numbers seven, thirteen, fifty-four, fifty-six, sixty-nine, seventy-four, eighty-four, and eighty-six Splinter was met with a starting reality.

Donatello could easily get into his fair amount of trouble. Number fifty-four was a startling example of that. He didn't even _know_ you could genetically engineer _anything_, much less a dragon…


	6. Donnie's Dragon

A/N: For those of you that may not be anime fans, the dragon Shenron is a character within the Dragon Ball universe (most prominently within DBZ & DBGT series). Title is a homage to the Disney movie, "Pete's Dragon"

* * *

**House Rules**

_Donnie's Dragon_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #54. You are allowed to have a goldfish, cat, dog, or iguana. No one is allowed to genetically engineer a pet dragon and name it Shenron._

* * *

Donatello was a smart boy. That much could not and would not be discounted. Just how smart the boy was always seemed to knock Splinter over like a feather.

The worlds of science and technology the aged rat left in the capable hands of his sons, most importantly in the hands of his genius son. Donatello had proven at an early age that he had so many ideas and thoughts in his head, each more different than the last, and once he reached an age where Master Splinter felt he was responsible enough, he began to build the fantastic designs that his brain held.

Most of their provisions had been supplied or fixed by Donatello; even his own inventions had come about from wanting to help his brothers. The Battle Shell and Battle Shell the Second had been visions (or nagging) from Michelangelo; the Shell Cycle a present for Raphael; Leonardo even had a specialized alarm clock that his brother had fixed for him, knowing his eldest brother needed something that not only told time but had a much more soothing alarm than that of their other brothers.

It was kindnesses like these that perhaps put his third son under the radar, so to speak. Splinter had once been talking to April, who had seemed to be of the impression that both Leonardo and Donatello had been perfectly behaved children when they were younger. The ninja master had actually laughed; laughed out loud he did, clutching his side as he tried to explain that between all four, everyday seemed like an adventure.

Donatello, despite his easy manner and passive ways, could equally find his own trouble. Within that year, for instance, Donatello – with help from their new friends, the Utroms – now had the technology to make whatever hit his fancy. That week, his fancy was with the J.R.R Tolkein classic, The Hobbit. And with reading The Hobbit, which had always been a childhood favorite of the purple clad turtle, there was of course research to be had in how the author came to get these wonderful characters and settings and stories. In the course of his research, Donatello had discovered that the scene of Bilbo Baggins encountering the horrible dragon had been influenced by the poem of Beowulf – which had been a favorite of Raphael's at one time. Couple this with the finding of the Disney movie, "Pete's Dragon" and suddenly, Donatello wanted a pet dragon.

In the realm of all things realistic, of course there were no such things as dragons. However, there had also been the thought that aliens didn't exist, nor did five foot talking turtles. So, Donatello taking all of this into account, decided that he was going to grow himself a dragon. How does one go about growing themselves a dragon? That had been Splinter's question too once he had discovered where the smoke and fire had come from and of course, after they had put out said fire.

In talking with Michelangelo, the ninja master got the story that his brother was growing a dragon and would name it Shenron. Of course, none of this meant anything to Splinter, so he felt the best course of action was to seek out said turtle and ask. In talking with _Donatello_ was another matter entirely. Donatello, when excited about a project, tended to go off into his own thoughts and seemingly forgot that he had an audience. Most of what Splinter understood was that modern science now had a way to genetically engineer certain things; Donatello felt with help from their alien friends, he could genetically grow a dragon.

While Splinter didn't understand half of what Donatello was talking about and he felt a tad bit sad about stopping his son in the middle of an exuberant explanation, he finally held up his hand and said, "Stop. Just…stop."

* * *

Splinter shook his head, again looking at his list. He couldn't really fault Donatello for the previous items he had attributed to him. After all, he was just one of a unique set and certainly, the earlier list items weren't _just_ the brainy turtle alone. Oh, most of this list was a group effort, that was quite evident. Checking the list again, the aged master scratched his chin. While nearly the entire list was a group activity, there were some he had to initially question.

At least five of his rules involved evil entities, demons, and things that just shouldn't have happened. Granted, he and his sons dealt with evil on a daily basis, but this…

How exactly does one find a person selling ancient talismans?


	7. Happy Halloween!

A/N: This chapter was purposefully done for Halloween, so Happy Halloween everyone! Be safe tonight when trick or treating later and for the adults, make sure you have you DD or a friendly place to stay tonight. I wanna see all my fan fic homies after the holiday!

* * *

**House Rules**

_Happy Halloween!_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #7. If any of you find ancient talismans, amulets, statues, or scrolls only mentioned in ancient legends, involving some sort of "savior", the "protection of mankind" and "big, out-of-control flying lizards that breathe fire and destroy any buildings within a five mile radius of where they were summoned," don't buy them. Even if the creepy old man you bought it off tells you it's a good idea._

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_13. Demonic rituals are prohibited inside city limits. Besides that, what do you really think dancing around a bonfire naked is going to do? Don't answer that.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_33. Live chickens are a don't. Under any circumstances.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_56. The Necronomicon Ex Mortuus is not a toy and you will not treat it as such.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_69. Plushies are not to be used as voodoo dolls, no matter how realistic the likeness.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_74. None of you are qualified to perform exorcisms on ghosts and attempting to do so will merely offend them

* * *

Splinter had always known his sons were special. Not just because they were mutant ninja turtles, but because of their hearts and personalities. And until the day he would no longer walk within this life, he loved his sons and would never wish for anything other than their happiness.

Though sometimes he wished he knew where their brains were.

A little over two hours ago, the ninja master had finally come to the conclusion that his sons – his rambunctious, adult sons – and apparently their friends, needed structured rules on what was and was not allowed within the lair, around the lair, within a friends' apartment, and how to treat those that were their enemy. So he had sat down and began a list of certain rules that they should aspire to.

In that time, Splinter had been shaking his head in memory of why some of these things were on the list. Some of course were easily attributed to having four male adults within the confines of a single place; they were of course bound to be a bit…rough around the edges. Others were easily explained by brotherly retribution for some cause and yet others were…well, he couldn't really explain those.

Case in point were the things he looked at now. Michelangelo's early morning declaration that zombies were coming not withstanding, his sons seemed to be constantly involved in practices that someone outside of their home could account as occult activity. A few months ago, Leonardo had stumbled upon an ancient scroll that prophesied that a being would come forth and slay an unwanted demon, to which he would then be the savior of all mankind. This of course lead the four to some distant planet where, of course, Leonardo saved the people of that planet and was proclaimed the savior of mankind.

The downside to that was the fact that the inhabitants also wanted to eat the elder turtle and his brothers – Michelangelo, he had been told, was enjoying his steam bath so much, he didn't want to leave, despite that his bath was in a pot filled with vegetables.

Then of course, there was the time immediately after that when Michelangelo had to talk his way out of being arrested by the local police for "performing a demonic ritual inside city limits". Why the city of Manhattan had just a law, that one could not perform a demonic ritual inside city limits, Splinter didn't know nor did he want to know why his youngest son, sans bandana and pads, had been prancing around a large bon fire.

Nor did Splinter want to know why his older brothers and Casey Jones had also partaken in this ritual.

And he definitely didn't want to hear Michelangelo's reasons for bringing a live chicken into the lair – though later Leonardo had confessed that his brother was going to sacrifice it in order to keep the bad spirits from following them, as they had been efficiently cursed by the people of the planet that they had escaped.

The best, in Splinter's opinion, was when Raphael had found some strange leather bound book that had washed its way down near the runoff tunnels of the sewer. Despite the fact that the book seemed to be made out of human flesh, his brilliant son decided he would none the less bring it home and of course, open it and start chanting the spells within it. This of course all happened when Splinter wasn't in the lair for two weeks, so he had only 'heard' about what had happened and even the version he got from Leonardo lacked information, he knew.

Michelangelo's was, by the far, the most colorful as he paraded his brother Donatello as a real live Ghostbuster, even going so far as to admit that Donatello had received his exorcism license online, but that it made him legit. It was at this point that, Raphael had had enough and thought summoning the ghost of a tormented soul would show his younger brother and…

Splinter closed his eyes and began to massage his temples. He wanted to forget that incident.

That naturally lead him to his recent discussion, when Donatello had said Raphael was using voodoo to make him fix his bike faster. Splinter of course didn't believe this until Michelangelo came in, saying Leonardo had just 'voodoo'd' him when he refused to hand over the remote. This had lead to Splinter confiscating four cuddly turtle plushies that held a remarkable resemblance to his sons. The possible reason was that someone had so thoughtfully made small little bandanas in blue, red, purple, and orange and had placed them around the eyes of a different plush. They each had little straps of brown around their elbows and knees and a large strap around their waists.

They would have been adorable – and Splinter was sure they had been beforehand – with the exception of the various pins that were stuck in them. He found it interesting that only Donatello had the least amount of pins, but he figured that made sense, as the doll had been in Leonardo's possession when he found it.

Standing and arching his back, Splinter could feel the headache coming on and he decided some tea would be nice. After all, he knew the majority of his list had a name.

And that name was Raphael.


	8. This is NOT Sparta

A/N: I am sorely tempted to do this Sparta excerpt

* * *

**House Rules**

_This is NOT Sparta_

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_27. Even if it is left on someone's balcony, you are not allowed to bring home other people's underwear. And Raphael, don't even try claiming that it's yours: you do not wear a 36 double-D cup brazire.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_61. The proper way to report to Splinter is "You wanted to see me, Sensei?" Not "I have it on good authority that you have no evidence."

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_66. You are not allowed to duct tape your siblings to the walls or ceiling.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_29. You are not allowed to go on strike.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_91. Raphael is not allowed to instigate revolution.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_50. This is not Sparta.

* * *

Newly made cup of tea in hand, Hamato Splinter sat himself back down on his bedroom floor, right in front of his small desk which held several pages of rules that should and would be adhered to while in, around, and out of the lair. His previous thoughts had been on his second son, the more temperamental of the four and when he glanced at the list, he realized that the majority of items were the results of Raphael.

When they had been but babies and before Splinter had officially named them, in his mind, he had given the four nicknames in order to tell them apart. Leonardo had been 'The Leader', as he always seemed to protect and watch over his siblings; Donatello had been 'The Wanderer', as he usually tended to wander off if Splinter didn't keep a direct eye on him. Michelangelo had been 'The Sunshine'; Splinter could only count on one hand the times he had never seen his youngest smile. And then there was Raphael.

The Instigator.

The second oldest had a tendency to bully his younger siblings; Donatello, once he was older, had said that both older brothers were probably alpha males, which explained why they were always at odds with each other. Splinter usually thought it was because Raphael wanted attention.

The ninja master had done his best to find books on childcare after he had found the turtles, especially when they seemed to act like human babies and not baby turtles. He had come across a few that discussed issues that came with having more than two children and how each acted toward a parent and towards their siblings.

The oldest of course would be given more responsibility, but in reverse, would also take on more than he could handle and would often become discouraged if they didn't get things perfect. That was certainly his oldest son to a tee. The youngest of the family would want attention and would probably use the fact that he was the baby to get away with things. That was Michelangelo for sure.

Then there were middle children. While the Hamatos clearly weren't sure who was the oldest per se, they had gone into their own familiar structure, with Leonardo as eldest and Michelangelo as the youngest. The one mystery left was who exactly was the oldest between Raphael and Donatello.

When they had been babies, it seemed clear that Raphael was the oldest between them, with his no fear attitude and wanting to be a 'big boy' from the bat. Raphael had never been shy about telling everyone what he did or did not want, which was opposite to Donatello's more reserved and shy nature.

When they grew older however, Splinter had begun to think differently on the matter. Donatello had been the first to speak and up until they began training, the first to do anything before the others. Splinter had wondered if perhaps his calmer son was the true older brother from the bunch.

Looking back, both the middle children seemed to cause undue stress for the aged rat. While both Leonardo and Michelangelo could be told what to do and they would listen, both Donatello and Raphael seemed to rebel at the thought of not being able to do anything. In later years, while he was disappointed, Splinter was never truly surprised when he received word that the red and/or purple banded turtle had gone off somewhere, by themselves.

Shifting his mind back to his second son, he looked down at his list and knew he would possibly need to break these up into separate rules for each turtle. Raphael was going to have a long list. Never mind the fact that the red turtle was permanently banned from any sort of explosives – and Splinter had a feeling his immediate younger sibling was behind that – there were just some things on here that made the rat wonder what it was his second son did when not in his sight. He didn't think he needed to tell someone that certain parties were not to be held at certain places.

And then there was the issue of the ladies undergarment that found its way into their laundry. He wasn't sure he believed Michelangelo's statement that they found it on a balcony and he certainly didn't believe Raphael's assertion that it was his – though there were those mysterious dresses that ended up in the youngest's closet – and there were other…incidents of a mysterious nature that had Splinter wondering.

Then there was list item number fifty…

His memory immediately took him back to earlier in the day, when his sons stood before him in the dojo, giving a report. If you could call it that…And he remembered what he told each of his sons –

"This is not Sparta. None of you have the authority to declare yourselves from Sparta or that you are Spartans. Along with that, _none_ of you – Raphael – are allowed to mimic anyone from Sparta. I do not care if there was a perfectly soft garbage container awaiting at the bottom, no one is to purposefully kick another being from the side of a building while declaring that you are in Sparta." He had raised his hand. "I do not care how diplomatic it was."

And wasn't it just last week that Leonardo had marched into his bedroom and told him that his brothers had declared themselves on strike? In speaking with his oldest son, Splinter learned that not only had Raphael gone on strike, taking their younger brothers along with him, but that previously he had called for a 'revolution' to take place within the lair.

Splinter had of course thought this absolutely silly and outrageous, until he followed Leonardo into the living room, where he found his three other sons forming a picket line.

He sometimes didn't know what to do with his second son. One morning, he had awoken and headed down to the kitchen for some tea. He had been quite surprised when he heard the calls of Michelangelo; looking around, he found his youngest son duct taped to the side of the wall. He didn't need to ask who had done such a thing, for this had not been the first time he had found Michelangelo duct taped to a part of their home.

In fact, the last time when he had discovered it was Raphael, the aged master had called his son before him. Raphael, who was either obviously still upset with his youngest brother or who had another reason to be upset, had stood before his father and stated, "I have it on good authority you have no evidence."

At that time, Splinter _did_ have evidence; however, there were times in which only the word of another held any sway. Usually that witness was Michelangelo, but there were times when the others would come forward. After all, it had been April who had told him about what Donatello had done…


	9. A Group Effort

A/N: THis is the end for House Rules. Many thanks to inuficcrzy for posting the insanely funny fic that this was inspired by. I was honored to be allowed to give some facts behing some of these rules. Also big thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, and added alerts. That's most awesome yo! If there are more hi-jinks to come from another chapter of Rules for the Lair, I would be most happy to make a sequel to this. ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

**House Rules**

_A Group Effort_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #20. Shouting out "It's morphin' time!" in the middle of battle will not do anything. Nor will shouting out "Black Ranger Power!" (But if it ever does, immediately cease and desist, as this is copyright infringement and Bandai has some f'cking mean lawyers.)_

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_51. Growing marijuana is not "an extra credit project for your online Biology class".

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_57. There is no such thing as a god of pizza and you are not allowed to sacrifice any of your siblings, friends, Purple Dragons, or members of the Foot Clan to it.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_32. ...You are not a death god either, Michelangelo.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_60. Michelangelo is not allowed to grease the floor so he can re-enact the opening scene from 'Risky Business'.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_84. When being interrogated by Splinter or April, you are not to wave your hand and announce 'These are not the droids you are looking for'.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_86. Donatello, you can't disguise mini robots as the Gingerbread Man to prank your brothers. Or claim they're minions of the Muffin Man. You are not the Muffin Man. You do not know the Muffin Man.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_89. Elephants do not like jello, nor are they willing to act as a self-aiming cannons no matter how many peanuts you offer them.

___Splinter's Rules for the Lair #_90. You are not allowed to donate your siblings to the city zoo. All of you are banned from the city zoo indefinitely.

* * *

Sighing for the umpteenth time that evening, Master Splinter once more reviewed the list he held in his hand. As before, his eyes scanned through it, noting some of the more…zany endeavors from his sons. Until he began this list, the aged master had thought the most outrageous thing they had done was make a deal with the evil Agent John Bishop, in regards to returning Donatello back to the turtle he had been before.

That seemed not to compare with the things on this list.

As he had noted before, many were group efforts, brotherly antics designed to get one or more brothers – the usual perpetrator was Michelangelo. The youngest turtle had always enjoyed a good prank and practical joke and he always used his older brothers as his victims, mostly his brother Raphael.

A few months ago, he had actually punished Michelangelo for tying up his brother and trying to sacrifice him to the God of Pizza. Incidentally, this was right around the time of that demonic ritual that was performed in city limits. How and why his youngest thought these things would work, he didn't know. Shortly after that, Raphael had complained that Michelangelo had tried to sacrifice Casey Jones to this God of Pizza – though he found it odd that his son in red was also covered in pizza sauce – and after that, Leonardo had reported that Michelangelo had tried to sacrifice a few members of the Foot Clan to this God.

Splinter refused to ask or know why one night all of his sons had come home covered in pizza toppings and why Michelangelo had been wearing some sort of scary Halloween mask. April had later told him that Casey had also come home like that and that they had 'scared those PD's shitless'. The ninja master had a feeling he knew the reason, but again, he didn't ask. And when he had heard the vigilante state that "Mikey was a bitchin' death god", he left it alone.

And speaking of Michelangelo, he didn't know what he would do with that boy. There was a time and place for things, but apparently the youngest thought _any_ time and _any_ place was time for any_thing_. He had actually been with the four when Michelangelo had proclaimed, "It's morphin'time!" and that he was calling, "Black Ranger Power!"

While it had proved to be an effective distraction during this battle – the Foot literally stopped and looked at the orange wearing turtle – Splinter was adamant that he never do it again.

He couldn't completely say that his youngest was the complete source of trouble. April O'Neil had called him one afternoon to report that the city zoo had called her to ask about the specimen she was donating. After convincing those officials that there had been some mistake, she had turned to her 'favorite' little brother and asked.

Splinter sat and listened as April told him what Donatello had said. He then called his third son in, along with his two older brothers, to clarify and confirm. Donatello had stood before him, listening, and then waved his hand slightly to the side. "You don't need to see my identification."

"What?"

Again, the turtle in purple motioned with his hand. "These aren't the droids you're looking for."

"Donatello, what are you talking about?"

"I should go about my business."

Splinter had just stared at his son, finally understanding what the boy was trying to do. "Donatello," he stated. "If that trick did not work with April, what makes you think it will work on me?"

He watched as his son leaned over to his brother in blue and replied, "The Force is strong in this one."

Leonardo had quickly confessed, though the ninja master wasn't sure if it was because of guilt or that he thought his brother crazy. Just like with the Sparta incident, Splinter had to lay down ground rules –

"The three of you are to never again try to sell your brother to the city zoo. I do not care if it was a prank and one that Michelangelo may have deserved, you have obviously forgotten the number one rule I have spent many years trying to teach you. The art of keeping hidden.

"You are also banned from making Jello in large quantities. Just because we enjoy it and we are based in the form of animal skin, other animals do not enjoy it nor do they want it."

And that reminded him of why Michelangelo was no longer allowed to be near cats other than the one they currently owned. And why Raphael and Donatello were no longer allowed to accompany him and why they weren't allowed to 'encourage' his antics.

Again, thinking back on things, he couldn't just blame some of these pranks on just the three youngest. Oh, their eldest brother could be very childish when he wanted to be. Didn't the "Touch of Death" incident tell him that? Leonardo could be as much of an instigator that his immediate younger brother could be. Wasn't it Leonardo who told Michelangelo that greasing the living room floor would be perfect for his "Risky Business" re-enactment?

Splinter was just glad the youngest hadn't broken his hip like he had proclaimed while lying on the ground.

He did question some of the things he listed though. He could hardly believe Donatello had actually started growing marijuana near their home – that's how the "Raphael did it first" complaint began. And while the Muffin Man debactle began with Donatello's robots, Splinter had at last learned that both Leonardo and Raphael had been the ones to suggest it, all for terrorizing their younger brother. Looking at that list item, the rat shook his head again. He couldn't believe the lecture he had given –

"No one is to proclaim themselves the Muffin Man in this house. Nor are they to construct – Donatello – Gingerbread Men and proclaim them minions of the Muffin Man. And no one in this house – Leonardo – is to taunt Michelangelo by singing the 'Muffin Man' song. Nor is anyone allowed – Raphael – to paint crud drawings of the Muffin Man on any wall in this house." Before anyone could protest, Splinter held up a hand. "Whatever it is you are going to say, stop. Just…stop. I have already spoken to Michelangelo about his crud stick figures on Donatello's walls. If these shenanigans continue, I will be forced to ban all muffins and gingerbread in the house and I am sure we do not want that."

* * *

Splinter often wondered if other fathers had to threaten to ban bakery goods and treats in their home. Did other brothers do this? Internally, he partially blamed Casey. Raphael being banned from explosives were the results of Casey's egging. He wondered if the vigilante went along with these things because he himself was an only child.

Sometimes, he almost wished he had at least one girl among the bunch. While he did indeed view April as a surrogate daughter, it had taken some time for his sons to feel that way. He didn't want to hear what April had done with a lollipop, but he had known that she was to never do it again within the presence of his sons. Though, he had to admit – out of one hundred infractions, April was the cause of only one.

Yes, a daughter may perhaps have been good.

Hearing the sounds of his sons' return, Splinter looked over the list, satisfied that he had gotten the majority of things down and that, in any hopeful event, none of them would be repeated. Standing, the aged rat began to leave his room and entered the living room. What he saw not only confused him, but added at least ten more points to his list.

All four of his sons stood in the living room, along with Casey Jones and April O'Neil. That was alright.

All four of his sons were dressed in women's clothing, complete with wigs, though he noticed that Michelangelo seemed to go all out in his attire, wearing a low cut orange sequined dress. That part…was odd.

Casey was dressed as a gorilla and was holding a leash…which was attached to a duck, who was quaking as though nothing seemed out of the ordinary. April was dressed as a man, with full red moustache across her lip. Okay.

And they were all covered in…you know what? He didn't want to know and he wasn't going to ask.

"Hey…Sensei," Donatello began, clearing his throat. "How…how are you?"

"You're…probably wondering why we're dressed this way," murmured Leonardo.

"We can explain!" Michelangelo chirped. "See, it all started when we broke into this strip bar and…"

"Stop," Splinter commanded, closing his eyes. "Whatever it is, just…stop."

He was taking a vacation. The sooner the better. Possibly tomorrow. After he finished his rules for the lair.


	10. BONUS CHAPTER 1

A/N: Back for more mayhem!

Sorry for the lateness in this. There will be four bonus chapters, this one being the first of those. Want to let everyone know that my website, that I've had for many years, has been reinvisioned and I have added the turtles to it. I will hopefully have some stuff up for you TMNT fans later tonight, but so far Get Smart has items reading for reading, as does Reboot. More info can be found on my profile.

I'm letting you all know now, that at some point I will no longer be posting or updating on this site. Again, more info on my profile page.

Enough of that! Here's more House Rules!

* * *

**House Rules - Bonus Chapter!**

_Welcome to My Life_

_101. When fighting the Foot clan in the bi-weekly battle of Good vs. Evil, no one is allowed to lift their weapon skyward and shout, "There can be only ONE!"_

_126. No one is allowed to animate food into miniature barbarians and sic it on other people._

_128. You are not allowed to kidnap yourself and hold yourself hostage for money._

* * *

One month.

That was all it took for the chaos that Hamato Splinter was used to rear its ugly and demented head back into his life. Earlier in the year, the aged ninja master had begun a list for his four young adult sons regarding the seemingly random and insane adventures they under took that had nothing to do with their nightly adventures of keeping the city of Manhattan safe.

He had finished this large list – one hundred items – one night before hearing his sons and their friends entering the lair. The ninja master didn't ask why Casey Jones was in a gorilla suit, nor did he ask why April O'Neil was dressed as a man, and he decided then and there, he would _never_ ask why his sons were dressed as women. He wasn't going to ask, at all. He did decide however that it was time for a vacation.

Last month had been that vacation, with everyone heading up to the farmhouse in North Hampton. It had been a quiet time, peaceful, and blessedly free of the shenanigans that his sons could get up to. Oh, he told them of the list and they read the list and promised they would not be tempted as to do such outrageous things again.

And then…that vacation was over and it now lead to this.

As the first days of winter began, Raphael stated he had received a letter in which Michelangelo had been kidnapped by unseen forces and that these unseen forces were now demanding money. It was a cause for alarm, at least Splinter felt it was; in fact, he had been deeply disappointed that his three other sons didn't feel the same way.

It was only when Donatello explained that the ransom note was in their younger's brothers handwriting and that, along with the demand of one bazillion dollars, there were also demands for a new game system that "Raph's big butt destroyed" and a portable computer because it wasn't "fair that Donnie gets to have a crack load of computers, but yet the most brilliant and talented Michelangelo must go without".

This of course was just a beginning and it was an omen that Splinter had been too shocked or confused to fully see. Shortly after this, by mere days, the group had a run in with Karai and the Foot, in which a great battle took place. The rat couldn't remember how it happened and really when, only that it could have been a profound moment if it hadn't been at such a time.

There had always been something between his eldest son and the daughter of the Shredder. Splinter had wondered, if Saki hadn't been sent to a barren wasteland by the Utroms, if perhaps the tension he felt between the two would spiral into something that could be dangerous. Splinter had always felt this – that they had before them two paths – that both paths would be dangerous, despite their meanings, with one path toward love and the other toward hate.

In the end, fate had stated that path would be hate and when he saw their fight, he knew that hate was the pulsing factor. However, he couldn't have imagined that Leonardo - the son he could usually count on to be sensible and responsible - would stand before Karai, one of his swords held high, and shout, "There can be only one!" Again, Splinter didn't question this; he just filed it away for the list. He figured that his sons, whom usually felt the weight of the world on their shoulders at one time or another, had promptly forgot what they had said at the farmhouse.

The aged master once again sat within his room, at his small table, adding to his list of rules to which those that enter the lair should and _would_ abide to. He had thought the first hundred things would show his sons that certain things, places, and people were off limits, no matter how funny something could be, it was not to be done.

But yet, here he was adding another fifty items to this list. And sadly, most of the list were nearly identical! Did he not tell Donatello that he was not to make robotic Muffin Man minions made out of gingerbread? He was sure of this. So why did his second oldest think that animating barbarians out of food was deemed acceptable? In his blamed his first youngest; after all, it was Donatello's know how that animated the food in the first place.

"I do not care if Ghostbusters defeated him," he had lectured both of his middle sons. "We do not need a Staypuff Marshmallow Man in the lair."

Did he really need to tell them that?

Apparently so and worse yet was when his sons went about doing things he couldn't control. Like the ability to talk to numerous people around the world through his third son's technology…


	11. BONUS CHAP 2

A/N: Here is more House Rules!

* * *

**House Rules**

_Technology is the Devil!_

_129. No one is allowed to sell their own, or anyone else's brain, heart, conscience, or bodily fluids on Ebay._

_134. If Donatello ever finds the schematics for an atomic bomb on the website Wikipedia, for the love of all that is good and holy, stop him._

_150. No one is allowed to dress any of their siblings in drag and post the pictures on the Internet. Especially not to online dating sites._

* * *

Master Splinter never understood the fads or mindset of his sons' generation and he was happy in that fact. He left them to their own devices, to find their own strengths and weaknesses, while encouraging their more ideal activities. He had always encouraged Leonardo's love of learning, splitting books between the eldest and his younger brothers; he encouraged Raphael's love of mechanics, often hinting that his immediate younger brother needed help on something; he always encouraged Michelangelo's various creative talents; and though he never understood them, encouraged Donatello's scientific and technological aspirations.

As he began to reach into the one hundred and thirty five mark, Splinter realized there were things on the list that could only be a part of the digital world that he didn't truly understand. He had learned earlier in the week that Donatello had actually found blueprints for an atomic bomb and if it wasn't for Leonardo's quickness, the two middle turtles would have gone ahead and made it.

And then there was the auction site. He had only heard about this place called 'Ebay' when Casey mentioned he had been outbid on Leonardo's…bodily fluids. And only two days after that, the vigilante had triumphantly stormed through the Lair's entrance, proclaiming that "Raphie, you belong to me! I own your soul!"

Did he not just give a very detailed and stern talk about owning their brothers' souls and how souls not only can not be owned, but could not be eaten? Did his sons have that short of an attention span?

Luckily, April had been nice enough to explain what this 'Ebay' was and he was so grateful to her for making sure that anything on this auction site was removed if it didn't have anything to do with an actual item. This process actually took longer than Splinter could ever imagine. Not only was Leonardo's male essence up for sale, but so was Raphael's soul, Michelangelo's heart, and Donatello's brain. Heaven's above, what exactly was the point of him instilling the concept of secrecy and learning the ways of the shadows if the boys were going to sell each other to the highest bidder on the internet?

Oh, there was a very _long_ discussion regarding this and other things one is no longer allowed to do on Donatello's computer. He had already had a discussion with Donatello in regards to certain 'materials' he kept or gave to his brothers; and Splinter didn't truly mind that. He _did_, however, mind about circulating pictures of Michelangelo, dressed in women's clothing, on various online dating websites.

"My sons," he had stated. "I do not care how much fun you had in doing this, nor do I care or want to know where you got the dresses. This will not happen again. And once we are finished here, Michelangelo, you will politely decline your invitations for outings with these people."

"But Sensei," the orange clad turtle whined. "I've got this hot date set up with this art designer from the Bronx and he invited me to his gallery! And he's kinda dreamy!"

"He did have a rather attractive appearance," Donatello replied.

"He looked nice," Raphael agreed. "But you know what they say about those 'nice guys'."

"How would you know, Raph?" Leonardo sneered. "Why don't you tell us about these 'nice guys' you seemed to know?"

"Don't try to mask your life style onto someone else, bro," the turtle in red countered. "I only deal strictly in 'nice girls' and those 'nice girls' have a wild side like tigers. I guess in your case, Leo, your 'gentlemen callers' would be bears, right?"

"Boys!"

The rat master could never understand how simple conversations quickly decended into lewd comments and speculation. As a father, Splinter never questioned his sons 'manliness' nor did he ever question their sexual orientation. They were young men, in human terms, and he realized that they would probably talk about intercourse and attraction more than he would like, but that it would happen. He was just a bit surprised at how _much_ it happened.

How many times did he need to remind his sons that their weapons were not compensating for something? That the size of the weapon had nothing to do with the size of their sexual organs? And really…a father should not have to tell his sons that they should not and will not substitute for anyone in the pornography industry. And that, for his continued health and sanity, that _none_ of his children are to be members of the pornography industry, regards of whatever skills they thought to be useful.

Sometimes, he worried about his sons. On average, he always worried – he was a father after all and his sons were warriors and battled forces that wished to rid the world of its people or of them; but there were times, such as this, that he worried for his sons' mental health.


	12. BONUS CHAP 3

**House Rules**

_The Lunatics are on the Grass_

_110. Despite what the movie 'Equilibrium' says, there is no such thing as 'gun-fu', nor are you to claim proficiency in it._

_113. No one is allowed to work on, for, or towards world domination for any reason._

_117. Tying coconuts to pigeons to prove a theory is frowned on by the ASPCA._

_140. You are not a member of the Spanish Inquisition._

_141. You are not allowed to train any amount of non-mutated turtles to attack the Foot clan or Purple Dragons, no matter how badly you are convinced 'they'd never see it coming.'_

* * *

Splinter was convinced – his sons watched too much TV.

This was of course true in Michelangelo's case, who seemed to watch everything and anything that the giant television monolith would show him. The ninja master couldn't exactly say he didn't enjoy television; he loved the Gilmore Girls and All My Children. He enjoyed his stories.

But aside from at most two hours a day, Splinter didn't see what the hold this small electronic box had over his sons nor over the world as a whole. Most of his list, he could easily see the influences of television on his four sons. And it wasn't just television shows that were the culprits. Just remembering list item 84 made the rat shake his head.

He remembered one morning during a training session where he had paired Raphael with Donatello in a spar. Splinter always made a point to place his hot tempered son with opponents that would force him to reign in his temptation to just blindly attack without thought. Pairing him with Michelangelo only made him annoyed and the sibling rivalry and competition between him and Leonardo only begged for problems; pairing him with Donatello however seemed to make the red banded turtle focus more on his opponent.

Donatello could easily incorporate techniques from all of his brothers. While still not wanting to hurt anyone, the brainy turtle was just as strategic and calculating as his eldest brother, but could also employ unique attacks that were the forte of his youngest brother. The problem with this turtle warrior, however, was the fact that he more often than not got lost in his own thoughts.

The two were perfectly paired and on this day, seemed to be in a jovial mood. "This is silly," Raphael mocked. "You and I both know that you can't beat me. I'm a master in gun-fu."

Gun-fu?

Donatello had then laughed. "Oh you poor misguided fool," he said. "I've teaching the arts of gun-fu before we even hatched."

"Dude!" Michelangelo had exclaimed.

"Donnie…"

"You did not."

"Did so," the brainy turtle bragged. "I even have my own evil organization bent on world domination."

"Oh God, it's the Muffin Minions!" exclaimed Michelangelo in terror.

Splinter shook his head. Just how many times did he need to remind the boys about terrorizing their younger brother? Why, just last week he had to reprimand Leonardo on his 'touch of death'. And that brought him to list items 140 and 141 – while he knew his sons enjoyed the antics of the British comedy troup Monty Python, and he found them sometimes too, they were the problems in this.

No parent should need to tell their children they are not members of the Spanish Inquisition.

It was rather cute when Michelangelo had first done it, funny when Donatello and Leonardo had joined in, a bit a disturbing when Raphael did it, but the ninja master really thought nothing of it. The boys were allowed some fun, there was no harm in that.

However, hearing a mortified April and angry Casey embarrassing tale of how they hadn't been expecting the Spanish Inquisition on their anniversary and in the midst of a lover's embrace was embarrassment enough on everyone's part. This of course did nothing to stop this nonsense – though Donatello and Leonardo had the good grace to apologize – no, no. This was followed by the activity report in which they had released a handful of regular turtles at the feet of the Purple Dragons.

"Stop," Splinter had interrupted, as the four had tried to explain their reasoning behind this. "Just stop. I do not care if this worked last week with Agent Bishop's men and that they 'freaked out', my sons, no more. The Spanish Turtle Inquisition is retired and there are no plans for them to come out of retirement. Ever."

Splinter had thought, like so many times before, that this would be the end of it. The Spanish Turtle Inquisition, yes, but not the shenanigans. He had actually made the mistake of asking Donatello what he had ordered a box of coconuts for. In his memory, Splinter could not recall his third son ever enjoying coconuts.

In fact, none of his sons enjoyed coconuts.

After the recent experiences, this immediately raised a red flag. So when his sons had gone out for their exercise, Splinter followed them. He had to admit that he was proud of his sons; while he was still able to handle himself, the boys had youth on their side and if it wasn't for his senses and skills, the rat master would have lost them countless times.

He was a bit surprised to find that they had lead him near the apartment that was shared by April and Casey and even more confused when he saw their human friends apparently standing and waiting with a small cage between them.

"Those aren't swallows," Raphael stated, coming to a stop next to Casey. "Those are little bastards with wings."

"Do you have any idea how expensive European swallows are?" April asked. "Or what it costs to ship them? Or even African swallows?"

"It's not gonna work if we don't have the real deal, Ape," Donatello countered.

"We can at least use them as a sample group," the red head suggested. "Besides, kinda short notice, Don Don. Not like swallows are flying around in New York this time of year."

"I told her we could find swallows at Grandma's," Casey interrupted. I'm sure of it."

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Leonardo replied, frowning as he opened the coconut box and handed one to Michelangelo. "This is going to kill these birds."

"No it won't," Donatello reassured his brother. "We just need to calculate the airspeed velocity and then…"

Splinter had tuned the engineer at that time because he was trying to discover what it was they were actually doing. Something about coconuts, swallows, and airspeed kept pulling at him, as though he had something like this before. Just recently, as a matter of fact, but what? Was it a television show? A movie of some kind? Hmmm…yes, perhaps it was a movie….

Sadly, Splinter could not think of that movie in time before a coconut had been attached to the leg of a pigeon that Casey had spent the morning catching and he could not save said bird as it plummeted to the ground below.

Again, when everyone was back at the lair, there was a long discussion on acting out scenes in any movie – action, comedy, drama, or otherwise – and Monty Python was banned until further notice or until his adopted children learned to watch said movies with caution.

He certainly couldn't say he didn't have a unique family.


	13. FINAL BONUS

A/N: Hey lo everyboday! Happy post Thanksgiving to those that celebrated! Sorry for not getting this up when I had planned; inuficcrzy kinda raised the bar by posting another chapter two days after mine *growls* but no worries, as it actually did add fuel to the fire.

This will probably be the be all, end all to House Rules. Any more that is posted for Splinter's Rules will be done at my website. I'm still here though, as I wanted to start getting the sequel to Yuku SUe Unmei up (which it is, in case y'all didn't know).

Thanks to everyone who's been reading this and any of my stuff. Traffic to my website was bolstered thanks in part to people on this site, so thanks mucho! I now have a RSS feed, so you'll be able to know when I've updated. Done a lot this weekend, so hopefully I'll get another chap of the YSU up soon!

This one is extra long!

* * *

**House Rules**

_We Are Family_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #127. Despite what Raphael claims, a clean room is not a sign of a deranged mind, thus you will all go and clean your rooms._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #104. April, you are not Xena: Warrior Princess and you shall not use war cries to signal your entrance into a room._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #108. Casey, you are never to dare, bribe, or trick the boys into doing anything from an 'American Pie' movie._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #118. None of the rats in the sewers are Splinter's brothers or sisters. Therefore, you are not allowed out of training because one of your millions of supposed 'uncles' told you so._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #125. No matter what you say, Michelangelo, you are not able to see the Grim Reaper, nor are you to claim that he is standing by the Shredder, tapping an hourglass and looking at him impatiently._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #153. I don't know how you did it, and while I am touched by the gesture, please, no more brass bands over-running the sewer, playing Happy Birthday on the anniversary of my mutation._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #158. Leonardo, stop using ninja wire to move objects without your brothers seeing you do it. They're becoming convinced the Lair is haunted. (See rule #74)_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #159. Pit fall traps are for the wilderness only!_

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #161. No one is allowed to wrap sleeping or hung-over people with Christmas lights and tinsel._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #165. Silly String is no longer allowed in the Lair. Period._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #166. No one is allowed to use Legos, duct tape, and/or rubber bands to create a giant ball so you can re-enact the boulder scene from Indiana Jones._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #173. Rolling someone in honey, graham crackers, and chocolate sauce and then dumping them in front of the Boy Scouts National Headquarters with a note to 'toast them on medium-to-high heat' is not an appropriate punishment for anything._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #174. Kool-Aid is to be used as drink flavoring only; the fact that it can dye your brothers' skin in a variety of colors is irrelevant._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #175. I have it on excellent authority that no, Heaven is not like the IRS, therefore, you do not need to get a receipt when you do something good._

_Splinter's Rules for the Lair #145. No, you do not have the right to fight for your right to party._

* * *

It was coming to the close of another year and one in which Splinter was going to put his foot down.

In the months leading up to the year's end festivities, the rat master had sat down and begun a list of what his sons and his daughter were and were not allowed to do in the Lair, police stations, amusement parks, zoos, the Internet, etc. One would think a parent wouldn't have to do such things and really, when looking at his list now, one couldn't believe that at one time this list had only held one hundred items, but at how many items how found their way on it since.

Splinter loved his children, he truly did. It had been no coincidence, he thought, that he had found his way to four baby turtles who had been dropped into the sewer due to an accident. He certainly didn't think it was chance that all five of them were to be covered in the Utrom ooze that created who they were now. Even running into their allies was not what Splinter called coincidence; he called it Fate.

So in making this list, he did not discount the actions of their human friends, another adopted son and an adopted daughter. April and Casey were like his children as well and they were certainly family to his four sons. So it was only fair that he include any of their hi-jinks on this too. He was actually not so surprised that Casey's name registered on many of the list items.

And his sons weren't the only problem links on this chain. He had hoped with only one rule under her name, Splinter had hoped April was above all of these incidents, which he had come to believe was a strictly male inebriated mind set. And maybe it was just the time that both of the humans had spent with them, but Splinter was noticing more and more that the two were somehow getting roped in to these shenanigans.

While he had placed it on the list, Splinter knew in his heart that April hadn't _meant_ to do what she did with a lollipop. She was surrounded by five men who, in all intensive purposes, found her attractive regardless on how they viewed her. Splinter, in his experiences, knew males were highly visual and could take even the most simpliest of acts and turn them into something lewed and sexually charged. He had just hoped his adopted daughter was above all that.

So of course, imagine his surprise when, after the Monty Python pidgeon incident, he actually had to include _her_ on the lecture on why scenes from movies would no longer be acted out in any capacity. Splinter, in perhaps need of some help, had unofficially placed April in a position of authority in dealing with his sons. She was their sister, a mother figure perhaps, and she definitely saw them as her little brothers – as did Casey.

And while Splinter hated to do it, he needed to establish himself again as their father, and that included telling April that yelling like Xena as she walked through the door was not appropriate in any situation, even if she did just 'liberate' the last pre-cooked turkey for Thanksgiving. And while the cry may have screamed the woman she took it from, it was a battle cry not to be used again. This was of course when Raphael had stated she could "battle cry her way into his room anytime".

He had been hit. Hard.

And speaking of Raphael, Splinter could only shake his head. Of the few grey hairs he had – fifteen by his count – ten of those went to his second oldest. Just yesterday, did he not tell his son that Leonardo was not deranged because his room was the cleanest? And then to top that off, Michelangelo declared himself to be the 'sanest of the sane' because his room was the messiest. A refusal to clean one's room is one thing, but to state that one of your siblings may not be in his right mind for doing so was quiet something else.

And then, as if to defy his father and master, Raphael had declared, "We gotta fight for our right to party!"

Suddenly, Splinter could clearly see his second oldest son, holding a sign and trying to convince his younger brothers not to cross the picket line as he organized a strike.

He didn't even want to think about the time the red banded turtle had dropped off his youngest brother in front of the National Boy Scouts Association, with a note he be 'toasted lightly' nor did he want to recall what happened when they had gotten a hold of the dinosaurs from the Jurassic Park exhibit.

He loved his sons. He loved his sons. It was something he seemed to be constantly reminding himself of lately.

If they had been humans, he would have immediately sought the help of a licensed doctor, because surely, his sons were suffering from some sort of mental illness. And it seemed to be catching and spreading to those around them. The aged ninja actually saw more of Casey Jones within his lectures that some of his sons. Even after the lecture on movie scenes, he still had to tell the vigilante that the "American Pie series" was no longer allowed not only in the Lair, but no longer allowed to be watched by _any_ of his sons, Casey included.

"Ah, come on, Sensei!" the larger man groaned, actually pouting at the prospect of not being allowed to watch his movies.

"Casey," Splinter replied, trying his best not to be angry. "Must I remind you what you had Donatello do to that pie? That was our dessert - " Here, he stopped the man from protesting. "I do not care if Michelangelo ate it. He certainly regretted it when he found out where it had been."

The rat, as always, was surprised at just how much trouble his sons and their friends could get into. And this didn't even include their usual daily battles with Foot ninja, Purple Dragons, or EPF agents. Wasn't it last month that he had told the boys pit falls were to never again be in the lair? While no one confessed to _building_ the large hole that had been in the floor and covered with leaves – he didn't even bother to ask when the leaves had come from – nor did he need to ask who had built the large boulder made of Legos.

He even dismissed Leonardo's explanation that it was for 'training purposes only', in case they ever found themselves in the jungle being chased by angry natives. Splinter, in all his years of being a father and in all his wisdom, knew that to be code for 'We were playing Indiana Jones Adventures and wanted it to be as realistic as possible'.

And speaking of Leonardo, Splinter was hard pressed to really come down on him. While it wasn't as his younger sons thought – that the eldest held a higher place in their father's heart – it was because Leonardo took being their leader seriously, nearly to the point where he didn't think he could indulge in fun activities. He wanted his brothers, father, and friends to enjoy life and if that meant he needed to stand on the sidelines and watch, he would. Leonardo had sacrificed much of his life to ensure that no one in his family sacrifice theirs.

It was a noble gesture, but many times Splinter had tried to tell his eldest that he could still be a leader and a brother at the same time. Sending him to South America had been good, despite the turmoil that began after his appointed return. That had been about two years ago and Splinter had indeed seen a change in his eldest, in the way he acted with his brothers; even the constant arguments that had plagued them between the two eldest weren't as common place.

That was why Splinter let Leonardo have his fun with the ninja wire, however once Michelangelo had disturbed his sleep at two in the morning, insisting that the Lair was haunted put an end to that. And he didn't immediately call the eldest boys in when, upon waking and heading for the kitchen, he saw that his youngest son had been done up in Christmas fixtures. Actually, he had gone and gotten his camera, as the scene was quite funny and precious at the same time.

He did not find the incident with the silly string funny however. And he didn't care who started, it was to never happen again.

His sons – his family – was unique, there was no denying that. In fact, as Splinter once again took a long look at the near two hundred items, he couldn't help but chuckle. While most were ridiculous or absurd, it did give them a strange…normalcy in their otherwise odd existence. Some of the items he could overlook as sibling hi-jinks – how else could one explain dyeing a brother with Kool Aid – or even the childish antics to get out of practice.

"_Michelangelo, you do not have an Aunt Berta nor an Uncle Augie. How many times must I tell you that the rats in the sewer are in no way shape or form my brothers and sisters? So despite your 'cousin' being born this morning, you are not allowed out of practice. And while we are on the subject, none of these brethren have the power to see Death or the Grim Reaper and they have not passed on this gift to you. You can not, as you are fond of saying, 'see dead people'."_

And really, Splinter couldn't help but find some of these situations hilarious, when he thought about them. He was finding it harder and harder not to laugh outright whenever Raphael or Michelangelo did something highly respectable and worthy and they came to him asking for a receipt; in case they needed to present it to the person in charge when they died. And even after explaining this, to all four, even he was surprised when Donatello asked "Is Master Yoshi keeping it tallied in his head?"

"Is he writing it down?" Michelangelo asked. "Cause I do not want to be blamed for those bumper stickers, especially when it was Raph who put them on."

"Well, I don't want to be blamed for making them!" the second oldest exclaimed. "That was all Donnie! See, Sensei, this is why we need the receipts."

"You're all acting absurd," Leonardo huffed. "Master Yoshi isn't keeping score."

"Says the turtle with the Touch of Death," murmured the turtle in purple.

"Yeah, Leo," that was from the youngest. "Don't think Master Yoshi doesn't know what you've done!"

"Well if he did, my receipts are probably overflowing, so there!"

"Boys…"

Yes, Splinter loved his sons, loved his daughter, even at their most wackiness. And really, that was the most important thing to remember. Perhaps he would keep the list, if to just remember the fun that his children had as he reached his prime. Looking at one item in particular, a loving smile graced the muzzle of the rat. Even with a list as full as this, there were some things that brought a smile to his face.

He didn't know how they had done it and certainly didn't know how they managed for the last two years without him knowing or anyone else, but there was something to be said on having a marching band play Happy Birthday on the anniversary of one's mutation that was…rather endearing.


End file.
